


December 23rd, 2021

by imsfire



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Feels, Gen, Human!K-2SO, Mourning, Seasonal, TW for covid19 mention, but this is a hopeful story, cameo from Kay, meet cute, minor Han/Leia and Shara/Kes, minor appearances by other SW characters, real-world au, walking in the rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28595967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsfire/pseuds/imsfire
Summary: Two lonely people meet on a Christmas holiday in rainy Devonshire, and connect over their mutual bereavement - and their need for fresh air...
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Comments: 28
Kudos: 71





	December 23rd, 2021

There was a smell of woodsmoke, sweet and heavy as spice in the air, and the lounge was gloriously warm, despite the heavy rain streaming down the windows. When Jyn came through from the kitchen, rubbing her hands dry on the bum of her jeans after washing the last of the piled-up breakfast and lunch dishes, she found both married couples lounging and cuddling by the fire and eating marshmallows. Eating them straight out of the pack; they’d opened a bag each, the entire supply. And they weren’t even bothering to toast them, even though that had apparently been the whole reason for buying marshmallows in the first place.

At least it meant marital harmony had been restored. Leia and Han had been sniping at one another over lunch, some ridiculous issue about what sort of motor oil best suited their ancient van. Han’s van, rather; at home in the city Leia drove a smart electric car. But for this winter break Han had insisted on driving all the way down to Devon in his beloved Falcon.

The two of them were curled up together on the fireside rug now, gazing dreamily into the flames, canoodling and munching. Shara and Kes had taken over the big leather sofa and were doing the same, whispering and kissing, and rustling their bag of candy. 

They’d have none left to toast, after all that fuss in the shop.

_You can’t have a winter cabin holiday and not toast marshmallows!_

_Leia, it isn’t a cabin, we don’t have them in the UK. It’s a holiday cottage._

Holiday mansion, more like. The website billed it as a cottage, but this was more like a manor house; it had five bedrooms and four bathrooms over three floors. It had a library, for God’s sake. The kitchen had a vast Aga and a double sink large enough you could practically bathe in it; a collection of Victorian copper pans hung decoratively around the walls. The living room was dominated by the open fireplace, a pair of cosy sofas and a fluffy white rug the size of a double bed.

A rug currently scattered with pink and white marshmallows her friends had dropped.

Well, who cared? Not Jyn Erso. She didn’t even like marshmallows, toasted or straight from the packet. The only thing that should be toasted in front of an open fire was actual toast.

“Washing up’s all done,” she said, to no-one in particular. “Who’s coming out for a walk?”

A chorus of _Nopes_ and laughter from the fireside snugglers. 

“No-one at all?” Jyn asked, trying to sound cheerful and not pained. “Come on, you lot!”

“It’s raining!” Leia said. She tilted her head back to grin up at Han and added in a soft sing-song “Oh the weather outside is frightful…” Within moments all four of them were humming along. 

Leia had a good voice, but getting away from the hysterical overload of Christmassiness had been one of Jyn’s main reasons for accepting this invitation, and “Christmas music” was one of her least favourite elements, even in good years, let alone this strange year when nothing, good or bad, could ever again be as it had been in the past. She retreated hastily back into the kitchen.

There was no sign of the remaining two members of their group. She barely knew the two guys anyway. Kay was an unnerving presence at the best of times, stalking around the office, unnaturally tall and quiet as a cryptid, always seeming to know what she was doing. Always with suggestions on how she could improve it; and the stats to back himself up. It was just as well for him that he was usually right when he told her how to do something; she’d been known to punch people for less.

The other chap was his flatmate. Who had turned out to be very quiet, and astonishingly good-looking. A Mexican expat who worked as a consultant in international development. Cassian Andor. It was a nice name. He seemed to be a nice bloke, too; soft-spoken, courteous, watchful, a gentle smile she could have enjoyed seeing more of. But she didn’t know him at all. 

She slipped into the high-ceilinged utility room off the kitchen to pull on her coat and wellingtons. Called out, into the living room “Last chance to join me for a walk!”

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!” chorused the romantics from their cosy fireside, and there was more laughter.

_Let it **snow?** Blimey, haven’t they seen how badly we deal with snow over here? Bunch of idiots. _

_Oh, don’t be such a grinch, Erso. These are nice people. They like me. I like them._

_Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, after all._

She did like them, truly she did. And after the nightmarish void of Christmas 2020, stuck at home under Tier Four rules, staring all alone into the knowledge of her bereavement and wondering how she would get to the funeral and how long it would take to find a new job in the new year and when she would ever see Bodhi again other than on Zoom calls from California, and what the hell even was her life… No, Jyn couldn’t let herself resent the new colleagues who had welcomed her the following spring; befriended her, included her, invited her to join team lunches and pub quizzes, and now even asked her to join them for their regular Christmas and New Year get-away. And it had to be a good thing to have a totally different Christmas this year. To make a clean break. 

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and from then till the end of Christmas Day she’d be dealing with someone else’s traditions; new games, new customs, new food, new drinks. Less room to brood on her own traditions, which she’d never be able to do properly again.

She’d already tried the cocktails Leia insisted were essential for the season (the cranberry mojito had been deeply weird; the snowball had at least made eggnog palatable). She’d shared Shara’s expensive Belgian chocolates and chomped the cinema-style popcorn Kes had contributed. And Kay’s twiglets, and Cassian’s fantastic home-fried salted tortilla chips. Not nachos; what was it he’d called them? Topotops, something like that. Topotos? Delicious, anyway.

Her own snack offering, of slightly undercooked chocolate chip cookies, had gone down well. Chewy and sugary enough to appeal to American tastes, she supposed, although Papa would have called them tudgey. One of his favourite invented words.

_Dammit, dammit, no. Come on, deep breaths, no crying._

Her colleagues – her friends – were still singing in the lounge as she let herself out by the back door and trotted round, through the rainy garden, towards the steps down to the lane. There was a light on in the semi-basement library as she passed the window. She glanced down and saw Kay and Cassian, sitting at the central table, working on a jigsaw.

They looked happy. Quiet and deep in their concentration. They sat facing one another, as though it was an interview or a skills test. But if Kay wasn’t such an oddball she might have gone back in and asked if she could join them. Not that jigsaws were really her thing, any more than chess was, for all the effort her father had put into trying to teach her. All patience and no action was never going to work for Jyn. Slapjacks was more her cup of tea. A game where you were not just allowed but actively _meant_ to shout and bang the table.

But the guys looked happy, peacefully absorbed; and they were working fast, placing pieces, grinning at one another as they finished a corner. Not that she was watching them.

She was watching them. She was standing under the dripping eaves, on this rainy winter afternoon, with the early dusk already closing in, and spying on two men she barely knew – _no, one she barely knew and one she didn’t know at all, dammit, Jyn_ – spying on them at their jigsaw-building. Just because Cassian - _Cassian who I don’t even know_ – was so very ornamental.

Under her breath she muttered “Ugh, Erso, you’re getting weird now.” 

And remembered her father again, saying the same thing, laughing at his own catch-phrase as he folded his laundry into precise geometric shapes and stacked it. 

_Shit. **Shit.**_

It was a year and six days ago she’d had the call from the hospital, and sat staring at the wall in stunned, heartbroken shock. Dr Galen Erso, dead on his own NHS hospital ward. Her Dad, gone forever; just one more statistic in the pandemic.

_I was fine on the anniversary itself. Why am I getting all worked up today of all days? Over these tiny little things like a turn of phrase or an undercooked biscuit._

_Come on, get some fresh air._

Just as she turned away there was a rattle behind her, the clatter and bump of a sash window opening, and Kay’s crisp voice said “Jyn Erso. What on earth are you doing?”

“Going for a walk.”

“I can see that.” He peered up at her, frowning over his round spectacle lenses.

“Then why’d you ask?” It was impossible not to sass Kay sometimes. He was literally Mr Literal; he deserved it. 

“You’ll get soaked.” Kay hastily pushed the window most of the way shut again to avoid the drips coming from above.

“Fine with me. I wanted the air, that’s all.”

“Well you’re getting the air _and_ the water.”

“All the better for when the fire nation attacks, then,” Jyn said, and trotted off quickly before he could either riposte, or more likely ask what the hell she was talking about. 

Her wellies thumped down the wet granite slabs of the steps and she pulled the big iron gate open and shut it again behind herself.

The lane ran downhill from their holiday house, towards the village in the valley, where lights were already coming on, and uphill, towards the moors and the dark sky. 

The wind was stronger out here, out of the shelter of the building and its surrounding garden walls, and there were wild grey storm clouds racing by overhead. The rain slanted more sharply, and though she mopped at her face it was soon streaming again.

It was chilly, but not unbearably cold, and there was something magical about the rain and the storm. A clarity, an unabashed physicality. No way it could pretend to be anything other than what it was. A full-on winter storm, whacking down rain, all along on the south coast. The lane was a stream under her boots. The bit of hair that always stuck out from under her hood was plastered down to her forehead already. 

It felt good, and Jyn raised her face to the sky and let it soak her.

No cuddling up indoors and loading herself with sugar and snacks. Just let the wind blow through her, and the rain wash the treacherous tears off her cheeks; and the fresh, clean air fill her lungs and carry all her scrunched-up unhappy thoughts away.

She wouldn’t stay out for long; it was already starting to get dark, after all. But a short walk; brisk, wind-blown, free. She set off uphill, away from the village and the house, striding towards the looming bulk of the uplands ahead. Wet, wild, bleak as the embodiment of midwinter.

God, yes, it felt good.

It was a pity really, that none of the others wanted to do this. Every day since they’d arrived, it had been nonstop chatting and eating, kissing and cuddling, eating and drinking and eating some more, snapping at one another and making up again, Kay’s collection of strategy games, and more eating. The house was lovely, everybody’s cooking was delicious so far, when they weren’t canoodling everyone was being warm, friendly, welcoming. She crossed her wet fingers in her pocket, hoping her own planned meal of Carbonnade of Quorn would come off better than the cookies had done. At least she’d drawn Boxing Day for her turn to do the catering. With any luck everyone would be so overfed by then that it wouldn’t matter if her meal wasn’t a huge success. 

It was incredibly kind of them to have invited her. And the weather was, there was no denying it, absolutely frightful. They had every reason to stay indoors by the fire.

But Jyn wanted to walk. What was the point of coming to the wild hills of Devon for ten days and never going for a walk?

On her left a big stone stile breached the hedge by the side of the lane. She could turn back now and head home, or she could climb over the stile and set off along the muddy footpath the other side. She’d glimpsed it from the station taxi when she arrived, and wondered where it went. 

Brambles and rank green nettles overhung the path, and sodden dead fronds of bracken, and overhead a line of bare-branched trees reared their witchy silhouettes into the sky. 

Jyn peered down it into the gloom. The path swung away from the house, off onto the rising slopes of Dartmoor. The surface gleamed, a long necklace of puddles and dark mud, strung criss-cross into the distance. It would be mad to set off that way, with no idea where she was even going. 

A perverse part of her wanted to anyway. 

Walk away from everything. Total solitude for a few hours.

_Yeah, and end up being picked out of a bog by mountain rescue in the middle of the night. If you’re lucky. Don’t be an idiot, Erso._

Just as she turned away, there was a voice, calling her name, and in the thin dim light she saw a figure dashing up the lane towards her, with rain splashing away from his stride in great arcs of water that glinted as they fell. 

_God, it really is pissing down now._

“Jyn!” It was Cassian. “Jyn, wait for me!”

Really? He was really going to run up a steep hill in the pouring rain in order to spend time with a woman he barely knew? 

Weird man. But then, it stood to reason; he had to be odd, he was Kay’s flatmate, after all.

It couldn’t possibly be anything more than that. He couldn’t _really_ want to go for a walk with her.

She stood in the lee of a dripping blackthorn and waited till he reached her. 

His parka had a fluffy edge round the hood; the tips of the fur were bedraggled. He wore stout hiking boots rather than wellingtons, and thick socks rolled up over the ankles of his jeans. The denim and the blue fabric of the coat were both dark with rain already. 

He stood grinning shyly down at her from under the fringe of wet faux fur. He was flushed and bright-eyed, and she saw that his hair had gone into little straggly bits across his forehead.

The rain made sparkles in his moustache; hell, there were even raindrops on his eyelashes. 

Cassian Andor. It really was most unfair how attractive he was. And the quiet, shy guy had left his warm library and jigsaw, left his friend and his comfort, to join her.

“Are you seriously coming with me?” she asked. It came out more incredulous than mocking, thank God. The boots were the real thing, so he wasn’t a Sunday-stroll kind of walker. Maybe he wouldn’t mind the rain and the mud and the wind. And the wintry-minded company.

“If it’s okay?” he said quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think – I don’t want to intrude. Maybe you wanted to be alone…”

“I just wanted some fresh air. Honest. Company is good, if you’re really sure you can face the British weather doing its worst.”

“Oh, I can take it. I’ve lived here for eight years.” Cassian turned to look out across the moors. “I thought we’d be doing some proper hiking on this trip. But it seems not.”

“I noticed the boots.” She was still looking at him. Warm brown eyes in the dusk, warm breath puffing out into the cold wet air. _Oy, stop staring, Erso._ “Any preferences which way we go?”

“Well…” He pulled a hand out of his pocket to point at the stile. “I’d like to explore this path, another day. Find out where it goes. But maybe it’s getting too late now.”

“How about a short road walk for today, then?” Without waiting for an answer she tore herself away from his handsome face and stomped on uphill. He caught up in a couple of strides. Long legs.

Very nice legs.

_Oh do stop staring at the man. Make small talk. Ask a leading question. Or something…_

He beat her to it. “So, do you always do Christmas with this crowd? Kay hasn’t mentioned you but he doesn’t really talk about work much.”

“No, it’s my first time with them. Leia kind of boffed me into it.”

Cassian made an odd squawking noise. “She what?”

 _Oh shit. Of course he doesn’t know that usage, what on earth was I thinking of?_ “Sorry, old slang.”

“I – uh – I, yeah, I know it as slang too but” –

“Boff means to bounce and cough at the same time, in particular when knocking into someone in order to push them. The House at Pooh Corner.”

If a human face could express the textspeak ???? more clearly, she’d be astonished. 

“Winnie the Pooh,” she elaborated hastily. “Sorry, bit too British there.”

“I only know Pooh Bear as the Disney cartoon. Dubbed into Spanish.”

“Oh crap, yeah. Sorry. Not much boffing in the other sense in Disney.” _And now I just have to get the idea of sex out of my mind fast…_

They tramped on in silence while her ears burned under her hood.

“It’s my first time too,” Cassian said abruptly; and then as she glanced round, he blushed crimson and added “my first vacation with Kay and his friends, I mean. Not – not – you know what I mean.”

She wouldn’t have expected it, but somehow it helped knowing that now they both had to not think of sex. And the fierce brief heat in her own face did go some way to counteract the chill of the rain.

They tramped steadily uphill. The tops of the moors ahead were almost invisible as the cloud cover came down, thicker and more lowering by the minute. Yet somehow the dim light and nonstop rain just made the world feel richer; the colours seemed deeper, textures more intense, and soft sound of rainfall murmured steadily on, hushing like a waveless sea. With each breath Jyn could smell a hundred scents, leafy, ferny, muddy, fungus-and-leaf-mould, all piled on top of one another in a cold wet perfume that blew all around them.

“It’s good to get out in the open air,” Cassian said at length. “I mean, everyone’s been really great about having me here. But I spend so much time indoors anyway, at work, it’s a shame not to enjoy the outdoors when I can.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” She glanced across to study what she could see of his profile. His nose was hawklike and slightly crooked and there was rain trickling off his hood and running down the shoulders and sleeves of the parka. 

It seemed to be her turn to say something conversational. “So, what do you normally do at Christmas?”

He sighed. “Well, you see… I always used to go home, spend Christmas with my grandmother. But she passed away last year. In the first wave of – you know – and it just felt all wrong to go home by myself.”

 _Oh shit. Oh shit shit shit, he’s just the same as me_ “Oh shit, you’re just the same as – I mean – oh shit. I should have thought. I’m so sorry for your loss.” _I should have thought, I should have thought, I am an **idiot** oh shit shit shit…_

She watched as a faint sad smile came, and went again, on his lips. “Thank you. And it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to be tactless. And – what you said - do you mean that you?”-

“That I?”-

“You - lost someone too?”

“Yeah.” Jyn’s heart suddenly felt heavy as a rock in her chest. “Yeah, my father. Just before Christmas last year.” Her throat had gone dry.

“I’m so sorry.” Those warm dark eyes were on hers as he turned to face her. Somehow they had stopped walking, and were standing close together, still barely knowing one another but joined in their grief in the gathering darkness and the rain. Jyn swallowed. Just as before, he beat her to the words.

“If you want to talk about it…”

“Yeah. Same. It’s really hard to talk about him to be honest, but I know I need to. My mum died when I was a kid so he was all I had left.” She swallowed again and allowed herself to take a diversion. “You must miss your grandmother.”

“So much. So, so much.” It was hard to be sure in the gathering evening, but she thought some of the wet on his cheeks might not be rain anymore. “She raised me, pretty much. Both my parents were killed in the Jalisco earthquake when I was six years old.”

Jyn closed her eyes and hung her head. No chance now of making any more friendly small talk. “Dad was a doctor. He caught it in his own hospital. What they called the ‘UK Variant’. Another few weeks and he might have had the vaccine. But he was exhausted and he just – went downhill, so fast.” 

Cassian was nodding. “Yes, the same for my abuela. She was an old lady but she was healthy, she should have had a few more years. But covid just – it took her. It just _took_.”

“It took and took and took.”

“And nothing feels the same now.”

“No, it really doesn’t, does it? And we’re supposed to pick up where we left off and carry on, but it feels all wrong not to – not to _acknowledge_ ”- She wasn’t entirely sure what she was trying to say; but that he would understand? Of that, yes, she was sure.

“I found all the war similes really irritating, back then,” Cassian said. “But now I think, maybe that was right. Because the trauma, that was like a war. The having to keep going, having to suppress your emotions and get on with life when everything was so fucked. And now, knowing that so many other people have the worst PTSD and all I have to do is get back to normal. But it isn’t normal. It never will be again.”

There was no point now in pretending she wasn’t crying too. “Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly.”

“Yeah.”

The dusk was closing in fast. It was getting hard to see the feeling in his eyes, or their colour, even standing so close to him. “It’s getting really dark,” Jyn said, and she could at least make out the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

“I was thinking the exact same thing,” he told her. “Mind-reader, eh?” Certainly a smile; almost a chuckle, for a second. “Shall we head back?”

“I think we should, yes. Wasn’t much of a walk, sorry!”

“It’s fine. The fresh air is good.”

“It’s certainly fresh.”

As they turned back, their hands brushed, and an electric sensation of warmth ran through Jyn. Like her he wasn’t wearing gloves - _and how often do I go out without my fingerless gloves? Dad always teased me about that_ – and she had to fight the urge to wind her fingers through his. Yes, it would be cold, and wet, but they’d be together…

Their hands parted, and then at the next stride, swung together again, and brushed one another, and parted once more; and once more at the next stride. 

It was almost like a game and despite the tears she found herself smiling shyly at him.

Despite the height difference the length of their strides matched perfectly. Strange how something like that could make her feel safe, and seen, and understood.

They passed the stile again. “Maybe, tomorrow?” Cassian said, with a nod towards it.

“I’d like that. It looks like an interesting footpath.” Off into the wilds, up into the moors and high places; mud and open air and the freedom of the wind and rain. “We could go rogue.”

“Shara and Kes are doing the catering for Christmas Eve, so I have the afternoon free. If you’d like, we can set off straight after lunch and get in a good couple of hours walking.”

He was looking at her, she could tell that much in the thickening dark; and there was definitely still a smile in his voice.

It was a nice voice.

“I’d like that very much,” she said. “Which day did you draw?”

“The 25th. You’re getting a traditional Mexican feast for your Christmas dinner.”

“I got Boxing Day. You’re getting a kind of stew.”

“I’m sure it’s better than just stew.”

“Hope so. I’ve only made it once, so fingers crossed.”

Right on cue, their fingers did cross, and linked for a moment before slowly letting go.

They walked on downhill, back towards the lights below, and the warmth and the friends waiting for them.

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by no 10 from a "seasonal prompts" list: "our friends rent a cabin for the holidays but then everyone goes out in the snow except the two of us". I just knew that for my OTP it had to be the other way around!


End file.
